


The Bowl Of Lilacs

by copperbadge



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fatherhood, Infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-21
Updated: 2005-11-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 01:24:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/805524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/copperbadge/pseuds/copperbadge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus can't give her what James can -- but he can still give her something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bowl Of Lilacs

**Author's Note:**

> This was written prior to book six.

I. TEMPTATION  
Lupercal, 1979.  
Three days after the full moon. 

"I should leave."

Remus Lupin stood near the window, letting the thin sliver of sunlight between the blinds and the wall illuminate his face. He was shirtless, trousers hanging on his hips loosely, as they always did; Lily had noticed that his clothes never quite fit him, but she'd never known how perilously thin he was until the first time she'd seen him undressed. He had always been firm and sure and steady, and his appearance belied the werewolf strength in his sinewy muscles. 

"Already?" she asked, sleepily, curled under the duvet on her bed. She let it fall slightly, so if he turned he'd see her breasts. She loved the hunger in his eyes when he saw her naked.

"No, I didn't mean leave the flat," he said. "I meant, I should leave the country."

She propped herself up on an elbow. "You're not serious?"

He turned then, and there was indeed the want of her, in his face, as he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. But there was something overlying it, a half-pain that she knew he tried to hide. 

"This can't go on, Lily," he said quietly. 

"I don't see why not."

"We can't live our whole lives like this, it won't work."

"People do."

"Only in novels and BBC miniserials."

She sighed and flopped back. "You won't leave if I ask you to stay," she said confidently. He drifted a hand out to stroke her thick red hair, affectionately.

"James is going to propose to you," he said.

"I know."

"He asked me to help him pick out the ring."

"Did you?"

"Yes. James has no taste," Remus said. It was not an insult, merely a statement.

"Good. Then when I wear it, I'll think of you."

He shook his head, seating himself on the bed. "That's why I have to leave, Lily. It isn't right."

"Well, you wouldn't marry me."

"You're...you being what you are," he said softly, "Which is to say, a brilliant young witch who happens to have Muggle parents...it'll be hard enough for you to be accepted by some. If you married a werewolf -- if word ever got out, you'd be shunned. You deserve to be fully a part of this world, Lily. Your life should be full of magic. I can't give you that, and you shouldn't have a share in this secret." He bowed his head. "I can't even keep a steady job, we'd starve, and you'd hate me eventually. The Potters are an old Wizarding family, rich, well-respected. You'll have status, wealth -- "

"You're James' cousin," she reproached. "First cousin."

"Yes, but James' father married another old family," Remus answered, "whereas his sister married a Muggle farmer."

"This is stupid."

"But it's still the truth. Don't marry James if you don't love him," he said. "But I think you do."

"I love you more."

He closed his eyes for a moment, and she was sorry she'd said it. 

Not sorry enough to wish she hadn't, though.

"And that sort of thing is the reason I should leave England, if not the whole island," he answered.

"You won't. Not if I tell you not to."

He nodded, agreeing that this was so. 

"Because you love me too much," she said, affectionately proud.

"Don't be cruel, Lily."

She tugged on his arm and he let himself be pulled down, until he was holding her, kissing her, hands exploring the familiar curves of her body. Places he'd known intimately since he was eighteen, since a fight with James had led her to his doorstep because she knew that Remus Lupin had always loved her, if not with the outward obviousness that James had. And he knew she was using him then, but he didn't care, and even after making up with James she'd come back to Remus, more often than was good for either of them. 

And then there came a time when she wasn't using him, somehow.

When he was barely twenty and it was love.

But it was still her love, on her terms, and it was love stolen when James wasn't looking, and it was love that would kill him if he let it. 

"Stay," she whispered into his ear. 

"Not forever," he replied.

"When will you go?"

"Do you want this to die slowly, Lily? When James marries you, when I have to smile and watch you dance with him at your wedding, what we have becomes wrong -- more wrong than it is now. You and James will be two parts of one thing, and I'll be the one who comes along with Sirius and Peter and your friend Emma to dinner on Sundays. You'll know James, know every part of him, and I'll begin to fade, not because you love me less, but because you won't have time for me. You'll have children. With James. His children," he said, and she heard the first note of well-controlled bitterness in his voice. "Children you could never have with me, even if we married, because my children might...might be like me." He stopped for breath. "You'll be a family, and I'll be an interloper. And slowly things will stop. You'll love your children and your husband and...and I might die, Lily, because I can't bear to watch you stop loving me -- "

She cradled his head as his voice broke. "Never, Remus," she said quietly. 

"So I have to go, because at least if I'm not here I won't see it happen. There are jobs in America, Dumbledore thinks he can -- "

She kissed him silent, watched his liquid brown eyes seemingly try to memorise her face. 

"Stay," she said.

"Of course," he replied.

"Stay while I marry James -- "

" -- yes, of course -- "

"Stay and come to Sunday dinner -- "

" -- I can flirt with Emma -- "

"Stay until then." She kissed him again, felt his fingers twine in her hair. "Stay until you can see the family you say James and I will be, stay until I have a child, a family. Then you can go, Remus."

"Why are you doing this to me?"

"Because I love you best," she murmured. "Because I need you, too, just like you need me. At least then, if you go, I'll have things to keep my time full."

"So we won't talk about it again," he answered, face buried in her hair. "We'll keep on as we have. I will smile and applaud and throw rice at your wedding, and when you come back from your honeymoon -- "

" -- I'll come to you and we'll make love in your bed and nothing will have changed," she answered. 

"Everything will have changed. But we can pretend otherwise."

"You think too much."

"It's your fault."

"What?" she laughed. He smiled at her, and she knew the moment had passed, the moment when either one of them might break and do something truly dangerous. 

"When you're here, the world is brighter," he said. "There's more to it. There's more to do, more to think, and I move faster, think better, words come more easily. I'm not afraid of the world when it has you in it."

She listened to him, and stretched her long legs against his, and when he pressed against her and kissed her hungrily and desperately and when his hands curved around her spine, and her thighs brushed his hips -- when he made her cry out, gripped in his own silent climax, she promised herself she would never, ever have children, that she would never let Remus Lupin slip away from her. 

***

II. CONCEPTION  
Hallowe'en, 1979.  
Four days until the full moon.

"Remus!"

Remus, grinning behind a not-at-all-disgusing lion half-mask, set his drink on the piano and turned to greet Sirius with a hearty handshake. The other man, whose black hair fell in curls around the raven feathers of his sharp-beaked mask, seated himself on the piano bench and tossed back the rest of Remus' drink for him.

"Brilliant party," Sirius said, glancing around at the other partygoers. "How are you? I haven't seen you in weeks."

"I've been traveling," Remus answered. Sirius chuckled and tapped out a few notes. He'd learned to play as a child, Remus knew, but he didn't often play anymore. 

"Hmmm, yes, I can imagine. I wish I had your freedom, mate."

"I wish I had your salary."

Sirius chuckled. "It's paltry, is what it is. If I didn't have Uncle's inheritance I don't know how I'd manage -- no idea how the other interns do it. I feed them, when I can. You should hear our dinner conversation, it isn't fit for civilised ears."

"What's on the charts this week?"

"Countercharms for potions. It's a dog's life, being a Healer," Sirius said. 

"Literally," drawled James, as he appeared on Remus' left, one arm around Lily's waist. "Hullo, Lupin, up to your old tricks? You've stolen my thunder."

"Hardly," Remus replied. James had pushed his mask up on his head -- he never could stand to have that pretty face of his concealed -- but it, too, was a lion, and a much less shabby one than Remus'. His face was flushed a little, Remus guessed from the punch everyone was indulging freely in. 

Lily, however, was pale -- she was wearing deep blue, and her face was painted in swirls of white and gold. He gave her a small smile of greeting, and she waggled her fingers back at him. 

"Clever, isn't she?" James asked the pair, guiding her forward a little to better show her off. "No masks for my Lily."

"And you can't kiss me until I take off the makeup," she added, giving him a gentle shove. "Go get me a drink, love."

Remus did not flinch, but his muscles had tensed to move at her request; Sirius might have noticed it, but Sirius was busy working out fingerings on the piano keys. James was already hurrying off.

"Let's have some dance music!" someone called from the crowd. Sirius, obligingly, played a few notes, then a few more, until it slowly coalesced into a tune. Lily slid along the piano a little until she was standing with Remus. 

"You look amazing," he murmured.

"I did it for you," she whispered back.

"Diana?"

"Do you like it?"

"You know I do."

He stepped back a little as James approached again, bearing four glasses deftly. Remus took two and set one down for Sirius when he was done playing; Sirius acknowledged with a nod. Lily sipped idly and watched the dancers. 

"Are we going out soon?" James asked Remus, who ducked his head.

"The fourth. You can come along if you like. Sirius and I had plans to go up to Hogsmeade. It's snowing there already."

"What about Peter?"

Sirius, at the mention of Peter's name, broke into an old Muggle torch song that Remus and Lily recognised, but James scowled at. 

"Thought I'd visit the club," Sirius sang, as the dancers adjusted to the new beat, "Got as far as the door; awfully different without you -- don't get around much anymore..."

"He's got a new girl," Remus said, by way of explanation. "He seems a little wrapped up in her."

"I know the feeling," James said, sliding his arm around Lily's waist again. Remus gave him a faint smile. "What about you, Moony? When are you going to bring out that girl I know you've got hiding in a closet somewhere? Afraid we won't like her?"

"I'm sure you would," Remus mumbled. Lily covered James' hand with her own.

"Let's dance," she said, setting down her drink glass and taking James' out of his hand. She held it up to his lips and he drank the whole thing, then pulled her out into the crowd of people.

"Jealous?" Sirius asked, as he repeated the chorus on the piano.

"Of?" Remus inquired, mildly.

"Them. Wouldn't blame you. They make a nice couple."

"Not at all," Remus answered. "I'm glad to see them happy."

"Hmm," Sirius said noncommittally. "Been invited on dates...might have gone, but what for? It's all so different without you -- don't get around much, anymore..."

By the time the dancing had finished for the evening, Sirius was played out and James staggering a little; Remus and Sirius caught him with a grin as he nearly fell on the piano.

"Lightweight," Lily said, giggling a little. "Sirius, help him home, would you? I want to stay a bit longer."

"Dun feel so well," James muttered. 

"I've been playing all evening!" Sirius protested. "Moony should do it."

"Flip you for it," Remus offered. Lily looked daggers at him. Sirius dug in James' pocket and pulled out a sickle.

"Heads," Remus called, in the air. Sirius caught it, looked at it, groaned, and wrapped James' arm around his shoulder. 

"Off to the floo we go. You owe me, Moony," he called over his shoulder. Lily grinned and shooed him off with her hands.

"You were going to ruin all my careful planning," she pouted, to Remus. 

"Getting James falling-down-drunk was your careful plan?"

"Well, I wasn't sure you'd be here tonight."

"I didn't know myself until this afternoon. I was hoping you'd come," he added, sipping his drink much more carefully than James had been. "Lily, does it occur to you that your relationship with James may not be entirely healthy?"

"It has once or twice," she said, with a sly grin. He grinned back, forgetting himself for a moment. "Come on, I want some fresh air and there's an enormous garden on this place. What do you suppose inspired Sirius' cousin to move in somewhere like this? She only has one child..."

"Andromeda likes room to spread out in," Remus answered, as they stepped through a side-door to the kitchen and out into the crisp October night. This close to the full moon, even being out-of-doors had an effect on him, and he was sure she knew it.

"You look good," she said. "Must be eating well, wherever you've been."

"I had a food allowance from Dumbledore while I was traveling."

"I suppose it's better than nothing."

"Worse, sometimes, I think. I don't want to talk about that."

"No, you never do," she said. The fingers of her right hand twined with his left. "It's all right."

"Are we going anywhere in particular?" he asked. She pushed off his mask and carried it herself, dangling by its strap from two fingers. He lifted his other hand to smooth his hair where it had been ruffled. 

"Away from the house. Away from people. I want you all to myself for a while," she said. Her face was so pale, in the reflected light of the real moon, that it almost glowed, but he could see her blushing under the makeup and his pulse sped up, as it always did when she was this close. So he followed, letting her lead the way until they'd wandered past a small copse of trees, and into a garden full of ferns and rosebushes. 

"I missed you," she said softly, turning to kiss him. His thumb smeared the gold swirls on her cheek, and she laughed, whispering a quick spell to clean it all off. That was better; he had no intention of making love to the moon. 

"I missed you too."

She leaned back against a tree in the centre of the garden, and he leaned forward, pressing his hips against hers. "Going to show me how much?"

"I'd like nothing more," he said, against the skin of her throat. She swallowed and gasped, and his hands slid down to her hips, gathering the soft blue material of her skirt up. Underneath she was naked. 

"You'll hurt yourself, here," he said, as one of his knuckles grazed painfully against the tree's bark. Just beyond it was a patch of dry, grassy ground, and there it was right -- right to let her wrap her arms around his shoulders and clutch at his shoulderblades, right to push against her and inside her. Right even to be more rough than he would have, because the moon was shining down and it made him a little wild, but she took the wildness away from him, Lily did, naked on the warm ground in the moonlight at midnight on All Hallow's. 

***

III. ANNUNCIATION  
Christmas, 1979  
Nine days until the full moon. 

There were so very many presents, that Christmas, even if the holiday cheer was somewhat lacking; there were dark mutterings among the higher-ups in the Order that things were perhaps not going as well as could be hoped, and it bred fear and uneasiness in the younger members. Still, it was a good Christmas, the best Christmas really, despite everything. 

In his poverty-stricken state, Remus had gone thrift-store shopping for his gifts, and as a veteran of the second-hand-goods district, had come away with some overlooked treasures that he'd repaired or re-finished in his spare time, which was considerable when he wasn't running errands for Dumbledore. Just one or two apiece -- a necklace and a pillow shaped like a tiger (you could hardly even see the mending he'd done) for Lily, some antique firewhiskey bottles for Sirius, who was experimenting with his own brew as a way of keeping current on potions processes, a set of vintage Quidditch posters for James, and some Muggle novels for Peter, who liked second-hand books, preferably the kind with interesting notes in the margins. 

They, on the other hand, had clearly coordinated to buy him winter clothing, food, enough books to keep him in literature for the next three months, and a new desk diary that gave the full and new moons as well as handy proverbs, planting tips, and wildly inaccurate weather predictions. It was nice of them, and it didn't injure his pride, which was considerable. 

He was sitting on the sofa of James and Lily's living room, wrapped in his new muffler and feeling at home with the world as he watched James and Peter assemble a rocking chair Sirius had given Lily, when she sat up straight and squeaked. 

"I almost forgot," she said, leaning over from her seat on the floor to rummage in the wrapping paper. "There's one more present."

She pulled a box wrapped in plain brown paper from the very back of the pile, and tore the paper off. "This is for James."

"Then why are you unwrapping it?" James asked, but he crawled over and sat crosslegged in front of her. She took four champagne flutes out of the box.

"Give one to everyone," she said, and James confusedly obeyed. Remus studied his curiously. Next out of the box was a bottle of champagne, and Sirius undertook the duty of pouring for everyone. Peter and Remus exchanged a baffled look, and Sirius shook his head as if to say he wasn't in on whatever was going on. 

The third thing out of the box was a tiny shoe, a trainer in miniature. James held it in his broad palm and studied it.

"I'm confused," he said to Lily, who was the only one without a champagne flute. 

"I know, darling," she answered, ruffling his hair. "I'm about to explain. Gentlemen, your glasses please?"

They raised their drinks obediently, and she smiled.

"To the new father in our midst," she said, "even if he is a little slow on the uptake."

James dropped the shoe, and Remus nearly dropped his champagne. Sirius reached over and clamped a hand on his wrist, steadying it and possibly looking for support of his own.

"Father?" James demanded. Lily grinned. "Father?"

"You remember that last week in October, that night we went out for Italian food and had all that wine?" she asked, leaning in for a kiss. He set the champagne down and held both her cheeks in his hands as he kissed her. Sirius groaned and made disgusted noises, which was just as well since Remus was looking for an excuse not to watch. 

"Father!" James announced proudly, turning to them. 

"Dibs on godfather!" Sirius shouted.

"We were going to ask you anyway," Lily replied, sticking her tongue out.

"We were?" James asked.

"Yes we were," Lily said firmly. "It's a bribe to get him to be my Healer when I'm ready to deliver."

"You had to bribe?" Sirius asked, beaming hugely. "I'll start reading up on it tomorrow."

"Not that we don't think you two wouldn't make grand godparents," Lily continued, looking at Remus and Peter, "But it's just that Sirius has a more stable income, and Remus..."

"Couldn't. Yeah," Remus said, without the usual bitterness he might have imbued it with. He was still getting over the shock, when two new shocks hit him at once -- the first, that this meant he would have to reconsider leaving. She'd only bound him to stay until her child was born, and while he didn't want to leave, he knew he'd have to, or this would consume him.

Two, that if it had been two months ago...it might be his. 

Oh god, it might be his...

A bottle of champagne split four ways didn't last long, and Lily gathered up the glasses while Remus, doing some quick thinking and maneuvering, gathered up most of the Christmas wrapping into a ball and followed her into the kitchen to throw it out. 

"Lily," he said quietly, as she rinsed the glasses.

"Don't say it," she breathed. 

"Don't say which? Do you know?"

"Know?"

"Whose it is? Don't think that little wrangle with the dates confused me."

She was silent. "You only have to stay until he's born, I know that."

"Don't ignore the question."

"They'll wonder where we are," she said, drying her hands.

"Lily, if that boy is born with brown eyes James is going to know something's wrong."

"James wouldn't care if it was born with three eyes. In case you hadn't noticed, Remus, he's a little dim about some things. It's not like they teach elementary genetics at Hogwarts. And anyway who's to say it won't look like James? You're cousins, you know."

He opened his mouth to reply, but she was already back in the living room, accepting renewed congratulations from the others and teasing James about not understanding the shoe. 

He never did get a straight answer out of her, but over time it became obvious that she did know, and that the child she was carrying had been concieved on Hallowe'en. He always suspected that she had planned it, and often wondered what made Lily want to dance along the edge of danger like that; perhaps because in those dark times there didn't seem to be much different between danger and everyday life. 

And still a part of him wouldn't believe it. 

***

IV. BIRTH  
July 31, 1980.  
Four days after the full moon.

"Remus! Remus, wake up!" 

Remus woke to someone shaking him, and flailed out with one arm; still-sore muscles twinged, and he sat up in bed, opening his eyes. Peter tumbled backwards, wide-eyed, onto his floor. 

"Peter? Wha'?" Remus asked, sleepily. The clock on the wall said it was just getting on towards two in the morning. "Wha's wrong?"

"It's Lily," Peter said. Remus was suddenly awake. "The baby's coming. James said I should come get you. She's already at St Mungo's -- "

Remus shot out of bed, a little stiffly, and began undressing, throwing on a shirt and a jumper over his pyjama bottoms before pulling on a pair of trousers. 

"How far along?" he asked, and Peter shook his head.

"Dunno. Sirius sent someone to floo me, I haven't talked to them."

"Right, we'll Apparate together," Remus said, pulling on the nearest pair of socks to hand and shoving his feet into his shoes. He glanced wildly around the room, grabbed his keys, and and Apparated before Peter could say anything more.

The admissions area of St Mungo's was silent in the early morning, and apparently it was a slow night; the duty witch took in the sudden appearance of a disheveled, urgent-looking pair of young men and pointed down the hallway. "Apprentice Healer Black said to let you through," she said disapprovingly.

"Thank you," Remus blurted, and ran down the hall. James was shouting somewhere in one of the rooms, and it didn't take long to find out which one; after a second James came hurtling out through a swinging door, looking stunned.

"He threw me out!" James shouted, as they skidded to a stop. "He threw me out of my own wife's hospital room!" 

"Is Sirius in there?" Remus asked. "Is she okay? What's going on?"

"He threw me out! He said nobody ought to be shouting in delivery! I'll shout at my own wife's -- "

"James, for god's sake, for once in your life stop thinking about yourself," Remus snarled, and bolted through the door, leaving Peter to calm him down. 

Lily, as big as a house and looking bigger in a giant white tented sheet, was moaning on the bed. Sirius was calmly setting something on fire.

"What's going on? Is everything okay?" Remus asked, stopping dead in the middle of the floor.

"If you're going to shout I'll throw you out too," Sirius said, adding powder to the little flame burning on a metal tray near Lily's face. Pale green smoke drifted up, and Lily's moans slowly subsided. "There, that's better."

"How is she?" Remus asked, suddenly filled with terror.

"You know, she really has good hips for this kind of thing," Sirius said, grinning up at him. "She's fine, Moony."

He swung the wheeled stool he was sitting on around to the foot of the bed, and lifted up the sheet. Remus looked away, politely. 

"Hey Moony," Lily said, softly. 

"She's drugged up," Sirius warned. 

"Thank god," Lily answered. "I can still feel it though, Sirius. It doesn't hurt, but I feel it. Am I supposed to feel it?"

"That's why you're delivering here and not in a horrible Muggle butchery shop," Sirius answered smoothly. "All right, you're about halfway there already. This is going to be fast, I think. Peter fetch you?" he added to Remus.

"Yeah. Are you sure she's okay?" Remus asked, feeling as if he ought to be doing something. The room was so dark, and so quiet...

"She's fine. Go tell James. Tell him he can come in if he's not going to shout, and if he thinks he might, I'll give him a calming charm too. There we are, love," he added to Lily, as she sighed when another contraction hit. "Feeling all right?"

"Yes, thank you," she replied. "You're a lot nicer in hospital than you are in real life, Sirius."

"It's the drugs. I'm the same bastardy old dog, you just can't be arsed to care," he answered. "I'm going to check on your pulse and some things, okay? You just sit back and look after my godkid a few more minutes."

Remus put his head out the door, to find James pacing angrily in the hall. 

"Sirius says you can come in if you're not going to shout anymore," he said. James pushed him out of the way and through the door. Sirius raised his wand and hit James with a charm as soon as he was fully in the room.

"You didn't have to do that," James said serenely.

"Yes I did," Sirius replied. "Go hold your wife's hand while I put my hands places I never thought I'd touch Lily."

James took the place of honour at the head of the bed, stroking Lily's hair and talking softly to her; Remus felt a twinge of jealousy as he stepped back, standing with Peter off to the side. 

Of course it wasn't his. How ridiculous he was. James was her husband. 

And yet...

_"I think he thinks I'm fat," Lily said, lying on her back in the unbelievably green grass of the back-garden at their house in Godric's Hollow. James was gone on Order business, and had asked him to look in on her from time to time. "He doesn't even want to share the bed with me anymore; he thinks I should have the extra room."_

_Remus, sitting on the steps, frowned. "There's a difference between fat and pregnant," he said. "I'm sure he's just worried about the baby."_

_"Well, he shouldn't be," she answered, turning her head to grin at him, one hand lying possessively across her belly. Eight months along, now, and still she could just look at him, and his skin would tingle. "Sirius said it was okay to, you know, do everything right up until nine months."_

_"Must be weird getting pointers on your sex life from Sirius," he answered with a grin. She pushed herself up with difficulty, and touseled his hair as she walked past him into the house._

_"You're the one reaping all the rewards," she said over her shoulder. He grinned to himself, and followed her into the kitchen. It wasn't impossible, after all; it was just a matter of changing positions slightly..._

"Remus?" James asked, looking up at him, and Remus shook his head a little.

"Yes? Sorry," he added. "Must have got a little of that smoke myself. What did you need?"

"He said you should go get something to eat, and some coffee."

"Oh, I'm fine -- Peter can go if he wants..."

"I think they want some time alone," Sirius said softly. Peter was already tugging Remus towards the door.

"But -- "

"Go on ahead -- I'll be there with you in a minute or two. The little canteen's open twenty-four hours, just down the hall and on the right," Sirius added. "James, I'm just going to cast a charm so that I'll know when she's almost ready, okay? If anything goes wrong I'm not far away at all."

James nodded and went back to talking to Lily, but Remus saw her eyes dart past her husband, and when she smiled and touched James' chin, she was looking at Remus.

"All right, I reckon we have just enough time for a sandwich," Sirius said, rubbing his hands and plucking a pre-made sandwich out of the chilled case in the little canteen. The wizard running the till looked extremely bored as he rang up two sandwiches, three coffees, and a cup of soup (Peter) to Sirius' account. 

"And you're the only one who knows if it's a girl or a boy?" Peter asked, settling into a chair next to Sirius, who unwrapped his sandwich and took an enormous bite.

"James and Lily said they didn't want to know and they didn't trust you to keep it a secret," Sirius answered once he'd swallowed, grinning at Peter. Remus nibbled at his own sandwich, but it tasted like sawdust, and the coffee was bitter and cold. 

"Are you sure it's okay to just leave them?" he asked.

"I've got it, Moony," Sirius said easily, taking another enormous bite. "I've been on the Maternity rotation for two months, and Healer Doge let me deliver Alice Longbottom's kid all on my own yesterday morning."

"Oh, Frank and Alice delivered?" Peter asked, beaming. "Boy or girl?"

"Boy," Sirius answered. "Neville. Good-looking baby, considering they're all a bit squashy when you first see 'em." 

Sirius had finished his sandwich in about five bites, and Remus offered half of his own.

"Eat hearty, Moony," Sirius advised. Remus shrugged, still worried, and nibbled some more. "In about -- oh, Merlin, there it is," he said, as something buzzed. "That's the charm going off. Come on lads," he added, shoving the rest of Remus' sandwich in his mouth. Peter quickly downed the rest of his soup, and they ran back to the room just as James came barrelling out of it.

"Something went all insane!" he said, as Sirius scrubbed his hands.

"That's just the charm," Sirius said over his shoulder. He cupped a handful of water over the flame still burning weakly on the tray, dousing it.

"Sorry, Lily, you have to be around for this bit," he said, shaking a clean towel at the smoke. "Shouldn't hurt too much."

"Ow -- ow!" Lily shouted. 

"That's it," Sirius said. "James, go hold her hand. Peter, you stand over there with the blankets. Moony, help me?"

"Do what?" Remus asked, anxiously.

"I'm concentrating on the baby. You stand here and let Lily know how she's doing, all right?"

Remus nodded and moved to stand behind Sirius, looking over his shoulder. He tried not to wince. 

"What? What's wrong?" Lily asked.

"No, no, nothing's wrong," Remus said quickly. "It's just not something you see every day -- "

"OWWWWWW," Lily shrieked. 

"Speedy little brat," Sirius murmured to himself. 

"It looks good, Lily, it's already, uh -- "

"Crowning," Sirius said.

"Crowning! Um, there's the head -- wow," Remus said suddenly.

"Wow? What's wow?" James demanded. "No wow, why wow?"

"Shoulders coming!" Sirius shouted. "Worthless Moony!"

"Sorry, sorry, it's uh -- "

Sirius' enormous hands moved swiftly, and in another second were cradling an entire little body, cautiously.

"Blanket, Peter," Sirius said, and Peter shuffled forward, trying not to look. James craned his head. 

"Is it over?" Lily asked, breathlessly. Sirius was wiping the baby clean with an edge of the blanket. 

"Hold him," Sirius ordered, and Remus couldn't even protest before there was a small, squalling creature in his arms. "I have to cut the umbilical cord..."

Sirius was moving around and touching the baby, but Remus couldn't have cared less; A tiny, black-haired little person was in his arms, Lily's son, and he wanted to cry. 

"Lily, James," he said thickly, when Sirius was done, turning to carry the little baby boy to the head of the bed. "Look."

He put the baby in Lily's outstretched arms, oh-so-carefully. She beamed down at him, smoothing the little bristling black hair. 

"He's so tiny," James said, worriedly.

"Well, they come in all sizes," Sirius said with a grin, doing something else down at the foot of the bed. He could have been amputating Lily's leg for all she noticed; she was rocking the baby carefully, checking each finger where the arms waved uncoordinatedly out of the blanket, totally wrapped up in him. 

"Looks just like you," Remus managed, and relief flooded through him. James glanced up, smiled briefly, and returned to the baby. Sirius appeared behind Remus' shoulder, drying his hands on another towel. 

"I know," he said softly, in Remus' ear. Remus turned his head slightly. "He does take after the Potters."

"How?" Remus asked.

"Don't worry about it," Sirius said. "I just want you to know that I know. And that's why you got to hold him first."

Remus wiped away tears under cover of rubbing his eyes. 

"Thank you," he said. Sirius patted his shoulder, and then walked around him to where James and Lily were suddenly terrified by loud crying. 

"He's hungry," Sirius said. "I can bring in a bottle, but you should try to nurse." He laid a hand on James' shoulder. "Well done, old man. What are you going to name him?"

"We agreed," James said, then swallowed, "That if it was a boy, Lily got to name him. She picked Harry, after my grandfather. And Moony's, of course."

"It's a good name," Lily added. "Don't you think, Remus?"

Remus summoned a smile from somewhere. "Yeah. I do."

***

V. EXODUS  
New Year's Eve, 1980.  
Ten days after the full moon.

Dear Lily and James,

I hope this letter finds you happy and not too hung over on the first day of the new year. Sorry I missed the party but Dumbledore found me a job and I had to take off for it right away. The good news is, the pay is decent.

The bad news is, it's in Canada.

I'll owl again when I have an address and all that sort of thing. It looks like I might be here for quite a while. You should come out and visit once I'm settled. We'll talk. 

Love,  
Remus

***

Dear Sirius,

I couldn't. I couldn't anymore. The job is real -- you'll see what I mean when you talk to James -- but I couldn't stay. And she never said I had to. She planned it so that I'd stay, but I can't, I can't watch it go on any longer. Christmas was too much.

James loves him, so it's not like he's going to be missing out on anything. 

I'll owl you from Canada when I have an address.

Love,  
Remus

***

Dear Peter, 

I'm off to Canada! James can fill you in. Look after yourself and don't let Sirius bully you too badly, all right? You should come visit first thing, and if you're looking for a new job I think there might be something out here for you. There's a deadly dearth of good teachers.

I'm going to be a Professor, can you believe it?

There's even a game reserve nearby that's warded, so I can run around when I'm feeling a little lunatic, and not go nuts.

Love,  
Remus

***

Dear Moony,

I hope you've settled in well. I understand what you were thinking. Maybe it's right, maybe it's wrong, I don't know, but I did some tests -- don't worry, nothing harmful -- around Christmas, and the results came in a few days ago. I hardly need to tell you, but he's yours. You should be bloody grateful he takes after your mother.

I did some reading, you know. Lycanthropy is a recessive gene but when it's triggered in children with a Lycanthrope parent, it manifests itself in puberty. There's no way to test beforehand, and it's unlikely seeing as Lily's a Muggleborn, so she probably hasn't any werewolf blood in her anyway. 

All the same, if one of you hasn't told James by the time the boy is eleven, I will. Harry's health may depend on it. 

Look after yourself. I'm coming out there in May to visit you, by hook or by crook, after I've passed my next set of exams. And you're coming for Harry's first birthday whether you like it or not. He ought to at least know who you are. 

Sirius

***

Remus set down the paper and touched his wand to it, crumbling it to dust, just in case. He'd write back some nice letter full of good spirits and not mentioning Harry at all; Sirius would understand. 

It wasn't just seeing Lily love Harry and James love Harry and them love each other, because they did love each other; it was precisely what Sirius was threatening in his letter. He couldn't stand to spend the next decade always afraid to see himself -- to see the wolf -- in Harry. He'd be a wreck. Every time the boy did anything even the slightest bit strange, and babies were always doing strange things, he'd worry that it was a sign, and he couldn't bear the thought of passing the curse down to his son.

His son. 

When you love your child you do what you have to, and he had to leave. For Harry's own sake, so that Harry would grow up with a father and a mother, and never know. Please god, let him never know. 

***

VI. DEATH  
November 11, 1981.  
Full moon.

"The rest is silence."

Remus crouched at the edge of the lake and skimmed rocks across it, thoughtfully. He glanced up at Moody, whose claw-footed wooden leg was sunk deep in the mud of the banks. The old man looked like a wading bird, with his thin legs and stocky body, his beaky nose.

"I didn't know you read Shakespeare," Remus said softly.

"It has its appeal," Moody replied. "You should be going, boy. Catch your death out here. Look like you already have."

"I'll be better," Remus said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat as he stood. "It's a lot at once, that's all. If it was..." He hung his head.

"If it had only been them and not Black and Pettigrew too?" Moody asked.

"It's an awful thought," Remus whispered. 

"Ruddy mess," Moody continued. "Never thought Pettigrew would amount to much -- "

"Don't say that! He's dead, Moody!"

"Doesn't make it less true," Moody replied evenly. "James now, he was a good man. Lily was a bright, beautiful woman, wasn't she?"

Remus flinched. 

"Black a promising Healer, too. Doesn't make any sense; you'd think a man trained to heal people would have a better conscience as his guide."

"I suppose perhaps Healers begin to believe they're infallible," Remus answered. "Sirius always thought that anyway."

"He's not dead."

"He is to me."

"They've asked for you."

Remus glanced at Moody. "Who have?"

"The Aurors. They want you to visit him in Azkaban. They've tried interrogating him, but his mind's gone blank. They think perhaps you -- "

"I won't go to Azkaban. I won't see him."

"Talks of you in his sleep, he does," Moody continued relentlessly. 

"Stop!"

"Talks of the boy, too, and they're worried -- "

Remus launched himself at Moody, but the old man was stronger and wilier; he caught him by the arm and threw him easily to the ground. The mud of the banks was cold and slimy under his hands, sticking clumpily to the knees of his trousers.

"Don't think you're the only one mournin' them," Moody snarled, as Remus picked himself up. "Don't think for a second."

"I want Harry," Remus blurted. 

"You can't have him. He's with family. He's safe."

"I'm his family."

"You can't protect him. Look at yourself. What are you going to do with a baby every full moon?" Moody asked contemptuously. Remus opened his mouth to protest that it didn't matter, that Harry belonged to him, but his accursed good sense agreed with Moody. 

He had no way to provide for Harry. And perhaps these Dursleys were decent people. Petunia had been an odious, screechy woman the one time he'd met her, but she didn't seem really malicious. 

"Can't I even see him?" he asked, brokenly. 

"It's too dangerous. You of all people are being watched," Moody answered. "Just because the Dark Lord's gone doesn't mean his followers are."

Remus stared out at the lake, swaying slightly. He was tired and unhappy and he would never see Lily again. 

"If you won't help the Aurors, the best thing for you to do now is go away," Moody said, behind him. "Go back to America, and keep a low profile."

"When he's older -- when he's at school -- can I see him then?" Remus asked. "Can I write to him?"

"That's for Dumbledore to decide."

Remus nodded. "I'd like to be alone now, please, Moody."

Moody nodded, and Remus listened to the uneven thump of his footsteps as he walked back up to the castle.

James and Lily's remains had been cremated and scattered here; Remus hadn't come to the brief memorial service. There was no one to scold him for avoiding it, after all. Peter was dead, Sirius a madman in Azkaban prison. 

He hadn't bothered finding a place to sleep that night; since he'd heard he'd been in a calm, almost numb state, but he knew the wolf was waiting. If he locked himself up tonight, he'd kill himself. 

When the moon rose that night, so did a single, mournful, deep-throated howl from the forest, and if Hagrid even mentioned the werewolf running wild through the trees to Dumbledore, the Headmaster did nothing about it. 

***

VII. INTERREGNUM  
Yule, 1981 through Midsummer, 1993.  
150 full moons.

He shouldn't have left it so long, but there was nothing else to be done; his own cowardice and an extended illness, unrelated to the Change though probably caused by it, had kept him away. The pneumonia had kept him weak, and finally he'd been forced to seek the hospital, as opposed to merely saying he would. The Healers said he needed rest and a quiet job, needed not to be traveling or sleeping in drafty boardinghouses. And he had to see Harry. 

"I can't tell you why," he said to Dumbledore, when the man came to visit him in the hospice, where he helped keep the records in order in return for a break on room and board. Hospices were for the dying, and he sometimes felt that way, but he was well enough that he could leave, soon. "I need to see him."

"Remus, I know you were friends with his parents, but do you really think this is a wise idea?" the Headmaster asked gently. Remus coughed, and was offered a throat sweet, which he took gratefully. 

"It's not a matter of seeing him for the sake of seeing him," he answered. "I want to be sure he's...healthy. And happy. As happy as he can be, given the situation."

Dumbledore nodded. "I understand your concern. I worry more about your health than his."

"I'm all right," Remus said, with a smile. "I get by, you know that. I'm as good mentally as I ever was. They've let me completely reorganise the files more efficiently -- "

He had another coughing fit, and sipped some water. "These'll pass off soon too," he added. "You should have seen me six months ago."

"I've no doubt," Dumbledore said, only a trifle condescendingly. 

"I won't infect anyone, if that's what you're worried about. I just want to be on the platform and get close enough to see him."

Dumbledore regarded him for a while, as he sipped some more water and straightened his shabby jumper. 

"Do you know why I came here to see you today?" he asked finally. Remus shrugged.

"I assumed the owl I sent -- "

"In part, yes. You taught in Canada for a while, didn't you?"

"You know I did, you got me that job."

"Charms?"

"Defensive, mostly. They teach things a little differently over there."

Dumbledore nodded. "How's your knowledge of Dark Arts?"

Remus frowned. "I...well, I keep current on the reading. I'd guess I'm probably a little rusty when it comes to hexes...why do you ask?"

"Gilderoy Lockhart," Dumbledore said. Remus looked blank. 

"The author?"

"He was hired as Defence Against the Dark Arts professor last year at Hogwarts, and proved a dismal failure. His reputation was ruined, and with it, the reputation of Hogwarts, in certain circles."

"Surely not -- "

"Not in the eyes of the general public, but as an educational institution. No teachers will take the job; if Gilderoy Lockhart failed, they say, what chance do they have of success?"

"But you've said -- "

" -- and not been listened to, as usual," Dumbledore interrupted. "The fact of the matter is, I am left without a teacher for the new school year. When you owled me, I looked back over your educational records. Quite impressive, I must say."

Remus' eyes widened. "You can't seriously be considering hiring a pneumoniac werewolf for the job?"

"If I did, would you take it?"

"I'd take any paying work right now that came with a warm bed and three meals a day, but it's -- you can't be serious."

"No one is aware of your unique condition, and there's no reason for that to change; you have experience in both the field and the teaching of it, and it would allow you nearly daily contact with Harry. Just to be sure he's not dying of starvation," Dumbledore said, drily.

Remus' heart skipped a beat, and he caught his breath, coughing. Harry. He could see Harry every day, he could be his teacher. If anything did go...go wrong, as Sirius might have threatened it would, he could be there for Harry. 

"Favouritism is, of course, discouraged by policy," Dumbledore continued, "but considering what Severus gets away with, I think being taught by one of his parents' old school friends is the least of young Potter's worries. Will you consider it?"

"When do I start?" Remus asked. 

***

VIII. RESURRECTION  
First of September, 1993.  
One day since the full moon.

"Professor Lupin."

The voice was familiar, even if the words certainly weren't; it was a long time since he'd been taller than Minerva McGonagall, but it was still odd to look down at her, rather than up. In his first four years at school, she had been a towering giant over all others.

"Still getting used to that name," he said, as she touched his sleeve to stop him in the hallway.

"It does take a while," she agreed. "You're looking..."

"Awful, I know," he answered. "Sorry."

"Well, you seem to have survived, at any rate," she said charitably. "We generally have a small gathering after the feast, in the teachers' common room. You're welcome to join us, although I think it will be understood if you would prefer to settle into your rooms."

He paused, indecisive; behind her, students were pouring out of the entrance to the great hall, splitting off into groups as they made their way towards the various dormitories.

"No, by all means," he said finally, eyes searching the crowd even now for Harry's touseled head of black hair. "I feel like a little celebration."

She smiled as they walked, and he realised he was keeping half-a-step behind her, just as he had at school. "You were quite the hero on the train today."

"Oh, no -- I should have stopped them even coming aboard."

"Nevertheless, there are few first-year professors who would have the forethought to send an owl ahead to the school. How is young Harry?"

Remus ducked his head. Harry was wonderful; Harry was a fine, strong young man with the Potter black hair and the Evans green eyes. He didn't look like Remus at all, and that was all right. He didn't take after his father in the slightest -- not even genetically. There was not even a hint of werewolf about him.

"He's fine," he said, when he realised she was still waiting on an answer. "Quite the trooper, eh?"

"Harry has always been rather more sturdy than anyone gives him credit for, I think," she replied, stopping before a large panel holding a portrait of a man bent over a desk with a quill.

"Password?" he asked mildly.

"Dangerous Dai Llewllyn," she said. Remus raised his eyebrows as the portrait swung open to reveal a doorway. "Filius sets the password. He's something of a Quidditch fan," she said, by way of explanation. "And certainly the students would never guess that, eh? They're always trying to break in and let loose a bludger, or spike the tea, or some such nonsense."

"Yes, I remember," he said. The password to the teachers' common room had frustrated James and Sirius for years.

"Ah, our hero of the hour," said Professor Flitwick, from a chair in the corner. "Come in, Professor Lupin."

"Thank you, sir," Remus replied. "Really, though -- "

"I heard Ron Weasley say you took on four Dementors on your own. No wonder you look a bit pale," the man continued.

"It was only one," he corrected.

"Well, one or four, it was a nice bit of wandwork!" Flitwick continued, gesturing so fiercely that he nearly knocked over the teacup on his knee. 

"You do look rather like death warmed over," said a woman with peculiar eyes and short grey hair. "Have some tea, or there's mulled wine in the cauldron on the table. I'm Hooch."

"You are?" he asked, mystified.

"Madam Rolanda Hooch," McGonagall clarified. "I don't believe she was here when you were a student. She's our flying instructor and Quidditch referee."

"I never go to the feast," Hooch added, waving one hand. "I get claustrophobic, cooped up with all the children like that. I'm sure I don't know how you stand it in classrooms day after day."

"Bit of a free spirit," Flitwick murmured. Remus thought that this was possibly an understatement.

"Is Professor Snape coming?" Remus inquired. "I'd rather have liked to have a word with him."

"He rarely does," McGonagall said, helping herself to a goblet of wine. 

"He's not really...the sociable sort," Flitwick said charitably.

"No, I suppose not," Remus said, accepting some wine. 

"And there's Madam Pince -- I'm sure you remember -- "

"Yes, yes..." Remus offered his hand to the librarian, who smiled at him. "You always went easy with me on the overdue books."

"You made better use of them than most," Madam Pince replied. "Professor Sinistra should be -- there she is."

"Yes, and dying to meet our new ritual sacrifice properly," said a tall, willowy witch with her hair tied back, whom he'd been introduced to only briefly at the feast. She gave him a quick up-and-down look. "Not much meat on him, is there?"

"Go easy, he's been ill," McGonagall said, in what would have been a whisper if Remus didn't have keen ears. 

"Well, either way, welcome," Sinistra continued. "Do tell us all about the train, everyone's talking about it."

"There isn't much really," he said, nervously. "I was uh...I was asleep, actually..." which wasn't strictly true, but the moment the compartment door had opened and he'd heard the children talking, and heard someone called Harry, he hadn't actually been able to move. He'd hardly even listened to what they were saying; just quietly strained to hear every word the child uttered. He didn't want to look in case Harry didn't look like him, or worse, in case he did. 

But he'd known immediately that the boy wasn't a werewolf. He smelled too human. And adult human -- Remus suppressed a shiver at the memory. If Harry had been going to manifest lycanthropy, it would have been at least a year ago, and someone might well have died in the resulting mess.

"Looks like he might fall asleep again," Sinistra said, recalling him to the present. "Go on then, what happened next?"

"Well, there was a jolt, and a Dementor opened the compartment, and before I knew what was happening -- they'd latched onto young Potter, and the other children were terrified -- I mean, anyone would have done it," he said with a shrug. 

"Done what, summoned a patronus on a moment's notice and banished the deuced thing?" Flitwick said excitedly. "I think not!"

"I can't even make one. Never have been able to," Hooch said to Pince, who looked sympathetic. 

"What's yours?" Sinistra asked.

"Er..." Remus looked uncomfortable. "It's a Thestral. Anyway, they backed off a bit after that -- the children were quite helpful, really. Poor...poor Harry was just sort of..." Lying there so still, looking just like James with his eyes closed, and a small part of him had panicked madly while the rest of him was helping Harry up onto a seat and calmly offering him chocolate. But oh, that second when he thought the boy might have died... "Well, he needed chocolate, and I had to leave him there while I sent off an owl to let Professor McGonagall know...he was all right by the time I came back. And, and that's it really."

"He looked a little peaky at dinner," Sinistra said dubiously. "Are you sure he's all right?"

"Oh yes," Remus said warmly, a smile curving his lips at the way the boy had watched him, keenly, intelligently, while he explained what had happened. "He's fine. He's..." perfect "...fine."

"Glad to hear it," Flitwick said. "Can't have the Boy Who Lived coming to an untimely end on the train to Hogwarts, eh?"

"Indeed not," Remus agreed, quietly. "He seems, er...he seems bright enough, does he do well in his classes?"

"He'd do better if he applied himself more to his studies and less to making trouble," McGonagall said, somewhat sternly. "That having been said, he's smart enough when he wants to be, and he has good influences."

"Runs around with that Granger girl, doesn't he?" Hooch asked.

"Granger girl? I think I met her on the train, briefly -- "

"Oh, delightful child," Flitwick said warmly. "Very dedicated student."

"He's very close with her and one of the Weasleys," Sinistra said. "I can't keep them all straight, there's been too many of them over the years. Is it the twins or the tall one he's friends with?"

"Ronald -- the tall one," McGonagall answered. 

"They travel in a pack," Pince muttered. 

"Rarely see Potter without Granger or Weasley, anyway," Flitwick said. 

"But they sound like they're good enough company," Remus said anxiously. Suddenly a whole new world of worries was opening up in front of him; before he had simply been concerned about Harry's survival, but now it turned out he had to worry that Harry was passing classes, and not running around with delinquints, and just what was this Granger girl up to, anyhow? 

"Oh, typical Gryffindors," Sinistra said. "Bright, courageous, and not overly given to looking before leaping."

"Who's talking about me?" asked a voice from the doorway, and they all stood to greet the Headmaster, who accepted a goblet of wine and a seat near the fireplace. Talk turned to other things soon enough, and he was left more or less to himself, to contemplate what had been said about Lily's son.

About his son.

***

IX. THE GIFT  
Hallowe'en, 1995.  
7 days until the full moon.

"I need to talk with you about Harry," Sirius said, and Remus set his book down on the lamp-table, immediately all ears. Sirius was reading an ill-folded sheet of parchment with Harry's messy handwriting on it, sitting crosslegged on the hearth. 

"All right," he answered, leaning back and resting his head against the wing of the chair. "What about him?"

Sirius looked pensive; he'd lost the gaunt bone-sharpness he'd had after he escape, but the hollows under his cheekbones were never going to go away completely. Remus rather liked it, in some ways; it made his face much more mobile and expressive than it had been before. 

"You don't talk about him much," Sirius said. 

"No, I suppose not."

"And we've never talked about you and Lily."

"No."

"Do you suppose it would be all right if we did? Now?"

Remus frowned. "Sirius, I'm not going to try to take Harry from you, if that's what you want to know."

Sirius shook his head. "That wasn't what I was thinking at all."

"Then why bring it up? It's done. She's dead, and so's James; Harry's not a werewolf. He never has to know."

"There's no reason for him not to know, either," Sirius said quietly. 

"What does that mean?"

Sirius folded the letter and set it by his foot, thoughtfully. "Ever since he's been...well, back in our world, he's been told how like his father he is, how much he looks like him, how much he acts like him. But it's not true."

"But it can be true."

"Don't you want what little piece of Lily is left?" Sirius asked. "I would, if it were me."

"What more is there to have? He knows who I am, I think he likes me pretty well...I get a say in his upbringing. Hauling all that old dead rubbish into it would only complicate matters. When he's older, maybe."

"How long did it go on?" Sirius asked. Remus scowled. "I'm just curious. James was my friend. So are you."

"Almost four years, I think. I didn't keep track. It ended when I left the country. Obviously."

"Did she love James at all?"

Remus nodded. "Very much."

"So why...?"

"She just loved me...more. That's what she always said." He shrugged again. "It's not important, Sirius."

"It could be, to Harry. I'm a lousy excuse for family -- "

" -- don't say that."

"I can't go anywhere, I can't be there to see his Quidditch matches, I can't legally take him away from the Dursleys."

"And I can't afford to feed myself, let alone buy him the things he needs."

"You wouldn't have to. He needs a father, Remus." Sirius rubbed his face with his hands, the same large, capable hands that had delivered Harry, fifteen years before. "I'm not right. You know I'm not. You'd be good for him."

"No," Remus said, sharply enough that Sirius looked up in surprise. "If you tell him he'll hate me and I'll hate you. Leave things as they are, Sirius."

Sirius was quiet for a long time, and Remus had picked up his book again when he spoke.

"Listen...at least help me. With Harry. Show me what to do. I don't know how to talk to him. I don't know what he wants for Christmas, I've bought him a broomstick already. I really, I don't know him at all."

Remus bowed his head over his book. "I'll bring back some catalogues from Diagon Alley, the next time I go, and we can look at Christmas things for him."

"We'll get him something from both of us!" Sirius said, excitedly.

"You don't think he's going to think that's a little weird? I don't really have any reason to be giving him things."

"If you're not going to tell him and you're going to make me not-tell him, you have to do as I say," Sirius said.

"What? That's -- that's blackmail!"

"Rough luck. Tell him, you sod."

Remus closed the book again, studying the cover. "He'll hate me, you know, if I tell him."

"He'll get over it. He's hungry for family."

"He has you."

"Yeah, he has me," Sirius said, a trifle disgustedly. There was another long silence. 

"If I die..." Sirius began.

"You're not dying. Nobody's dying."

"If I die, you have to tell him, Remus. He needs to have someone."

"Fine, if you die I'll tell him, because you're not anywhere near death's door. Can we change the topic now?"

Sirius grinned at him. "Promise?"

"I promise, Sirius." Remus rolled his eyes. "You don't have any ideas for Christmas for him at all?"

Sirius' grin widened. "I thought books. I hear his dad's fond of those."

***

X. REVELATION  
August 2, 1996.  
Three days since the full moon.

Remus had often hated the Change, for various and sundry reasons, but he had never hated it as much as he hated it the year Harry turned sixteen, because it was the day before Harry's birthday and he was too ill to move, let alone attend the party they were throwing for him at Grimmauld Place. Tonks had brought him up some cake, and Harry had stopped in briefly to thank him for the Shearsides automatic magical razor he'd given him, but he'd been tired and Harry hadn't stayed long. 

It wouldn't have been right, anyway, to tell him then. Hell of a thing to give a kid for his sixteenth birthday. 

But he had promised Sirius. 

Now he sat at dinner with the rest of the crowd of Grimmauld Place, pushing Molly's excellent porkchop around his plate, with no appetite and certainly no desire to be there. At the other end of the table, Harry was rough-housing with Ron over the last roll, and not paying him the slightest attention; he felt sick at the thought of wrecking the boy's life. 

It'd only be worse if he waited, though, and he'd promised Sirius. And there was a hunger in Harry's eyes that he wanted to fix. He did. He hated to see the boy in pain. 

"Harry," he said, when the meal was mercifully over, "Can I speak to you for a minute?"

Harry glanced up at him and nodded. "Sure, what about?"

"Alone," Remus added, and the others exchanged looks. "In my room, perhaps."

Harry followed him down the corridor and into the small, dusty room that he'd appropriated for himself and filled with books from the library; it wasn't much of a home, but it was a lot better than some he'd had. 

"Am I in trouble?" Harry asked, standing just inside the door.

"No, no...not trouble, exactly," Remus said, nervously. "Er...sit down, if you want."

Harry dropped himself into the wing-chair near the window, where the reading light was good. Remus watched him, studying the shape of his face; there was just a hint of his own cheekbones and nose, if he was in the right light. 

"What's going on?" Harry asked, looking uneasy.

"I, er..." Remus leaned against his desk, looking down. "Before Sirius died he made me promise him something, and I'm trying as best I can to fulfill his wishes, Harry. I want you to understand that. If I had my way I wouldn't be burdening you with this."

Harry's eyes widened. "What did he want?"

"It's nothing you have to do, Harry, and you don't even have to..." Remus pursed his lips. "It doesn't have to change anything. If you want to ignore it, once it's out in the open, I'm okay with that."

"Remus, you're really not reassuring me," Harry said. 

"It's just that...I'm supposed to tell you something, about your parents, that's not going to be easy for you."

Harry swallowed. "What about them?"

"They did love each other. I know they did. James was head over heels for Lily, I'm sure you know that, but I want you to bear in mind that she loved him too. She did, Harry."

"Okay..." Harry said slowly.

"But your mum was also very...listen, James wasn't...she was in love with someone else, too, someone she couldn't have in the same way she could have James," he said. "She married James because he loved her and he was good to her, but he...wasn't the only one."

"Mum had an affair?" Harry asked, eyes round. 

"Yes...uh...how do you feel about that?"

"With who? With Sirius?"

Remus opened his mouth to protest, when Harry gaped. 

"Is Sirius my dad?" he demanded. 

"No -- Harry -- "

"Did my -- did James know?"

"It wasn't Sirius," Remus said. "But James didn't know. And he wasn't, he wasn't your father. Sirius found out about it, because he had you tested when you were a baby."

"But everyone says I look just like him -- "

"You do take after the Potters, but not necessarily James," Remus continued. 

"What the hell does that mean? Who's my dad, Remus?"

Remus took a deep breath. For a moment, hysterically, he considered saying Severus Snape, and almost burst out laughing. Instead he exhaled. 

"I did love her," he said. 

Harry stared at him, unblinking. 

Then he bolted. 

Remus ran after him, and managed to catch up halfway down the hallway; from here they were audible in the living room, and he didn't want Harry to make a scene. 

"Harry, stop, please -- at least..." he held onto Harry's arm when the younger man tried to pull away. "Listen to me before you run away, Harry."

"You?" Harry demanded. "And you've never been in Azkaban, you aren't dead! You?"

"Harry, try to understand," Remus said, hauling him back into the room and closing the door. "There were reasons, good reasons, not to tell you."

"Name one!" Harry shouted. 

"I wasn't even allowed to see you so it's not like I could have told you for the first, oh, eleven years of your life! I couldn't afford to feed you if I had -- I was starving myself half the time. Believe it or not, you were better off with the -- "

"Nobody told me!"

"Harry, it isn't something -- "

"You taught me all year and you never said anything!"

Remus bowed his head. "I wanted to. I thought it would only complicate your life -- "

"Complicate my -- gee, having a father would complicate my life, that's brilliant, Remus, thanks!"

They stared at each other across the room, Remus near the window, Harry in the doorway. 

"I'm so sorry, Harry," he said. "I told Sirius this would happen, I told him it would be better -- "

"Shut up I hate you!" Harry shouted, and threw himself across the room. Remus caught him, ready to hold the boy back -- to hold him down, if necessary -- but Harry hadn't even balled his fists to punch; instead he was clinging to his shirt, burying his face in it, and sobbing.

Remus lifted one hand and stroked Harry's hair, gently. 

"Well, you've said you hate me, I'm officially a parent," he sighed. Harry made a hiccupping sound that might have been a laugh. "I meant to tell you when you were older, but you have enough problems right now...it's just that I promised Sirius. So that you'd have someone if he died. You would have had me anyway, you know."

Harry stepped back and wiped his nose with his shirtsleeve. Remus tsked, and offered his handkerchief.

"I'm not a werewolf, am I?" Harry asked.

"Thankfully not," Remus said with a smile. "It's still Potter blood, you know -- James was my cousin."

"That's a pretty rotten thing to do to a cousin," Harry said reproachfully.

"Yeah, I know. God, how he loved your mum. We both did. He just happened to be rich and not a werewolf, as well."

Harry frowned at him. "It was pretty rotten of mum, too."

"Nobody's perfect, Harry. Least of all our parents."

Harry threw himself into the chair again, blowing his nose on Remus' handkerchief. 

"It's up to you," Remus said quietly. "What you want to do about it. If anything."

Harry looked down. "I'm trying to decide if having a dad is worth forgiving you for being a really bad one."

"I could be better. I still don't have any money, but you have quite a bit, so that's all right -- I could, uh..." he fumbled for words for a minute. "I could come to your Quidditch matches, and -- "

"Just, don't talk for a minute, okay?" Harry said. Remus fell silent, obediently. Harry twisted the handkerchief between his fingers. 

"Dad," he said finally. "I can call you dad."

"Yeah?" Remus asked. 

"Yeah. I could do that."

"All right."

"So I should uh...I should go and -- Ron asked me to play chess with him."

"I could come watch."

Harry gave him a small grin. "It's not a Quidditch match, you don't have to cheer."

"I like watching you play chess."

"You do?"

"Yeah." Remus shoved his hands in his pockets. "So."

"So you want to come watch me get thrashed at chess?"

"Sure. Ah, here," Remus said, taking the handkerchief from him. "There's something on your face..."

"Oh..." Harry brushed at his cheek, then submitted to a few swipes with the handkerchief, while Remus held his chin still.

"All right, now you're presentable," Remus said, giving Harry a light shove in the direction of the door. 

"This doesn't mean I'm not mad at you," Harry said.

"You wouldn't be sixteen if you weren't," Remus answered. "Go on, I'll be there in a minute."

When Harry was gone, he covered his face with one hand, leaning on the desk once more for support.

"Thank you, Lily," he said softly, and went to watch his son play chess.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [To those whom presume](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2246097) by [azureavian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/azureavian/pseuds/azureavian)




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